Quidditch
by Lord Cynic
Summary: Boring title, boring story. Deliberately vague details. Harry scanned the skies for a sign of the annoying Snitch. With a little help from a reliable source, it could be closer than he thinks... yeah, that's a messed up summary. HHr


**A/N: **Finally, I got this out of the way. This is to atone for my atrocity of a first Harry Potter ficcie. Timeline as vague as ever. I consider the series over after Goblet of Fire…

Yes, it IS a boring title. I couldn't think of anything else.

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**Disclaimer:**Harry Potter doesn't belong to me. The way it turned out, I wouldn't want it to.

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_**Quidditch**_

A satisfied smile crept on Harry's face as he performed a simple loop-de-loop through the air. His Firebolt handled perfectly, allowing him to perform the aerobatic manoeuvres with ease as he searched the area for the elusive Golden Snitch. His teammates and opponents hovered below him, their faces blurred by the speed of their brooms or his, he couldn't tell. He didn't really need to know.

A distant voice called the constant state of play, although it mixed with the incessant and rowdy noise of the crowd. He vaguely heard the score line, which indicated that his team was leading by an excess of 50 points. He smiled again – at the rate they were going he could let the opposing Seeker catch the Snitch and they'd still win.

His smile quickly set into a determined frown. There was no way he'd let that happen in any situation, since he did have a reputation to uphold.

Harry's keen emerald-green eyes scanned the field for a sign of gold. The wind blew haphazardly in his face and through his unkempt black hair, temporarily covering his sight. He shook it off and circled above the Chasers. Wait, what was that?

His peripheral vision spotted a miniscule flicker of gold and he immediately sped towards its destination. He barely detected his adversary's presence behind him as he flattened himself out on his broom to increase his speed. The Snitch fluttered obliviously by a section of the stands as Harry and his opponent closed the gap between it and them.

They were now side-to-side and they continuously nudged each other to try and throw one another off-course. Elbows touched as their arms stretched out, fingers flexing to grab the match-winning sphere.

Suddenly, a pair of Bludgers screamed towards them and Harry turned sharply to avoid contact with the heavy balls. He didn't hear any sickening crunches, which told him the other Seeker also escaped the potential collision. He took one glance at the stands and, to his dismay, the Snitch had disappeared. He growled and went back to circling the field.

The colour commentator inadvertently added to his frustration – the opposing team had somehow scored 70 consecutive points and sent his team 20 points behind.

He needed to catch that Snitch at all costs.

There was an abrupt crashing sound and Harry was alarmed to see two of his Chasers bouncing off each other. They managed to regain composure however, and after a brief embarrassed pause they pursued the Quaffle again. Harry shook his head and sighed; what was going on?

Another Bludger whizzed past his head, alerting him to his role. He grunted and scolded himself mentally before resuming his search. Wherever the Snitch had disappeared to, it was out of his line of sight for the moment. He would have to be more active in his pursuit. He paced above the field of play, narrowed, bespectacled green eyes scanning his surroundings frantically for a glimpse of gold.

Several fruitless minutes passed and he was getting agitated. He briefly wondered if it had snuck inside someone's uniform but quickly disregarded the thought as soon as it came up. He didn't fancy using his Seeker skills _that_ way. The fact remained, however, that the Snitch was currently nowhere to be found.

The commentator's voice called out the score: 80 to 130 in favour of the opposing side. Harry sighed with frustration – if this kept up, he could catch the Snitch and still lose. He swerved to dodge a rampant Bludger and circulated the field once more. Where was that darn Snitch?

A voice suddenly called out from the crowd, a voice Harry recognized. He pivoted on his broom and found Hermione of all people bouncing up and down on her seat. Her chocolate-brown eyes were bright and gleamed in the sunlight and her bushy auburn hair bobbed as she moved.

She looked radiant, Harry idly mused. Wait, what was she saying?

"Behind you! Behind you!"

Harry blinked in confusion before his ears pricked up at the round of whistling. He used his Quidditch instincts to perform another loop-de-loop and narrowly dodge the speeding Bludger. He breathed out a sigh of relief and flashed a grateful grin to Hermione. Her cheeks flushed pink, to his amusement, but she continued to hop energetically on her sear. She was still shouting and pointing at something and Harry had to strain his ears to hear her.

"Behind you!"

What, again? Harry turned around to find… nothing. Slightly perplexed, he continued turning until he had gone 360. He still found nothing. He wondered what Hermione was still yelling and pointing out. He frowned at her, only provoking more frenzied gestures in his general direction.

_**Bam!**_

A Bludger slammed into the tail of his broom, sending him spiraling towards the ground. Teammates and other fellow Gryffindors screamed but all he heard was the wind whistling around him as he dived. He managed to tilt the front end of his broom to soften the incoming impact, but knew the collision would still force the air out of him at the very least.

When he finally hit the earth, he tumbled for several metres before coming to a complete stop. Something round fell out of the back of his robes and he instinctively grabbed it with a bruised hand. He didn't have enough time to register what it was before a sea of concerned housemates started swarming towards him.

There was a torrential downpour of anxious words, to which Harry weakly waved off with a hand and what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He still felt something in his resting hand, although for the life of him he didn't know why he couldn't open it.

A sudden loud squeal and a _forceful_ weight upon him abruptly brought his attention to the weeping Hermione wrapped around his middle. He felt incredibly awkward and gingerly returned her embrace. He winced as he moved his weakened limbs, only now feeling the excruciating pain from Hermione's tackling hug. He slowly rubbed her back in a soothing manner, still feeling something in his left hand. He finally opened it slowly…

… to discover the slightly battered Snitch.

Harry barely heard the astonished commentator's statement about a 230-210 final score above the Gryffindors' elated cheers. All he heard was Hermione's delighted cries.

"Harry! Harry! Harry! _Harry!"_

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Harry's eyes opened groggily to discover Hermione shaking him awake. 

"Finally! Welcome to the waking world, sleepyhead!" she said with a grin.

For some ungodly reason Harry let impulse take over…

… and kissed her.

It took him several moments to properly awaken, and a prolonged heavy, embarrassed silence promptly followed. Harry couldn't bring himself to look at Hermione, and he figured she was the same. Harry felt the fiercest blush on his cheeks, and repeatedly opened and closed his mouth, although he couldn't find any words to speak.

"I-I'll see you downstairs," Hermione finally squeaked. Harry only nodded and watched as the heavily-blushing girl departed with a secret smile he couldn't see.

They continued to steal glances at each other and blush for the rest of the day. Ron, for his part, was just more confused and oblivious than usual.

_**The End**_


End file.
